Shards of a Cloud
by Midnight Duchess
Summary: When Ginny dies, many secrets are revealed, and Harry disappears. Slash, HPDM/HGRW/HPGW. More disclaimers and summary inside...
1. Author's Notes

Author's Notes: Reading this page is good for your health and my sanity

Author's Notes: Reading this page is good for your health and my sanity!

_Disclaimer:_ I am fairly certain that I am not J.K. Rowling, as I am not rich, famous, or British. Also, if I were her, the epilogue would be nothing more than a bad dream. Thus, it follows that if I am not J.K. Rowling, I (unfortunately) do not own Harry Potter, or any of the other characters from the Potterverse. However, I take full responsibility for any ensuing plot. So if that sucks, it's my fault.

_Warnings:_ This story is liable to end up containing slash and lemons, and if the plot cooperates there will be male pregnancy as well. I have rated it M, just in case, even though I have no idea where this plot is going to go. If you think that for any reason you will be offended by any of this, then bloody hell, don't read it! I will put a warning at the beginning of any chapter that ends up with explicit content if you want to skip that stuff. Flames are only good with marshmallows. And I'm on a diet. So, no flames, please!

_Pairings:_ Harry x Ginny, Hermione x Ron, Harry x Draco. Plus any others that I may end up adding at a later date. Possibly mention of Draco x that Slytherin J.K. invented for him to marry.

_Notice:_ This story will be compliant with the epilogue, DH, HBP, and anything else you can think of (note: does not include flying monkeys). Yes, I can make DMHP epilogue compliant. I may be God after all.

_Plot Summary:_ When Ginny dies, Harry can no longer face life in the wizarding world, and disappears. But just what…or who…is he running from? And who will be able to find him and bring him back? Only his daughter knows.

_Beta:_ I am currently beta-ing my own work, with some help from Mr. Paper Clip in Microsoft Word. If you have a strong desire, for some crazy reason, to beta for me, I would love you forever and shower you with e-cookies. Drop me a message or a review to let me know!

_Updates:_ I do not have a life. I have school. Therefore, updates will happen whenever I have inspiration and time. I'm trying to write as much as I can while I'm in the mood, so expect chapters to go up quickly for the first few days, then taper off.

**This is what happens when I don't pay attention in Chemistry. Plot bunnies attack me! But I'm so happy to actually be writing again that I don't really care. I hope you will enjoy this story, and don't forget to review! I'll try to keep the author's notes in-story to a minimum, since I have this page with all of my myriad warnings, but if for some reason I need to let you folks know something, it will be in bold text, just like this! Cool, no? Hehehe…**


	2. A Sad Day at the Burrow

A Sad Day at the Burrow

A Sad Day at the Burrow

Harry sat on the edge of an oversized feather bed, holding Ginny's hand in both of his. Had the circumstances been different, he would have wondered how the Weasleys had ever fit the thing into Ginny's tiny room in the Burrow, but other problems occupied his mind at that moment. Gently, ever so gently, he pressed a kiss to her forehead, as though she might break. She had always looked delicate, but these days her daintiness had transformed into brittleness. He was startled out of fretting over her condition when her flame-colored lashes flickered, then parted to reveal bleary eyes. She blinked several times before she finally managed to focus on the source of the kiss that had wakened her from her nap.

"You came." Though it was soft, her voice was as strong as ever. As much as she tried to hide it, it was the only thing that was strong about her anymore.

"Of course I came," Harry muttered, surprised. "I'm your husband, aren't I?" If the woman in the bed hadn't been so obviously ill, he would have snapped at her, but he made an effort to contain his anger. _Bloody hell! Does she really think so little of me? After all these years?_

A gentle smile crossed Ginny's face. "You are. And you have no idea how sorry I am that I made you marry me. But it won't be for much longer." She raised a trembling finger to Harry's lips before he could get over his astonishment and say anything. "No, listen to me. I don't have much time left, and I need to get this out. I trapped you, Harry. I knew if I told you I was…in a family way…you'd marry me. You and your hero complex. I thought you would be happy with me. Eventually."

"I was," Harry mumbled around the finger on his lips, but Ginny didn't seem to hear him. If she had, she would have known his protest for the lie it was, but she kept talking as though she hadn't been interrupted.

"Harry, I'm so sorry. But…maybe this time, you'll have the chance to do what's right for you. Not…what's right for everyone else." Her finger dropped from his mouth back to the hand-knit bedspread, and her sudden weakness made Harry realize with a start that she was actually talking about dying as though it was the only option left to her.

"NO! Gin, no, you can't die. You're not going to die. What about the family? What about _me_? We'll get you to Saint Mungo's. They can fix this, I'm sure they can."

Ginny smiled weakly. _Still the same old Harry._ "It's too late, love. Just worry about…yourself now. You can't always be…a hero." Her eyes slowly closed, and her body seemed to relax, as though she had been holding her breath throughout their conversation and finally decided to let it out in a silent sigh. Harry sat there, holding her hand, until he realized that it had gone limp and cold in his grasp.

His calm reaction surprised him. He let go of her hand, and eased out of the room so quietly that an observer who didn't know him would think Ginny was only asleep and that the slightest noise could wake her. Outside the door stood a silent cluster of people, their vibrant red hair giving them away as the Weasley clan and their loved ones. "She's gone," he informed them in a flat tone, no sign of emotion on his face. Before even his two closest friends could react, his hand closed on the wand tucked into his belt, and he was gone with a crack as the air rushed into the space he had Apparated out of. The only indication he had been there at all was the slight indentation in the bed where he had been sitting.


	3. A Dark and Stormy Afternoon

A Dark and Stormy Afternoon

A Dark and Stormy Afternoon

_Good old England. Only here would it be rainy every other day of the week, but sunny for Mum's funeral._ Lily shook her head, an involuntary smile coming to her lips. _O'course, Mum would approve. Bet Dad does too…wherever he is._ She sighed softly, her thoughts circling back around to the problem at hand, as they had been doing for most of the service. It was hard to pay attention anyways, with all of the reporters and photographers trying to get into the chapel to snap a picture or two of the grieving family. Ginevra Weasley had been a celebrity, after all, because of her marriage to the Boy who Lived.

Lily reflected with a grimace that the reporters would just have a field day with the news that her father had been missing ever since the night her mother died, and not even the Aurors he worked with had been able to find him. Of course, that was hardly surprising. Her father was the most powerful wizard of his generation, in her opinion. If he didn't want to be found, he wouldn't be found, and that was that. _Wouldn't have killed him to at least show up for the funeral, though,_ she mused.

A sharp poke to her ribs brought her back to reality. Her brother Albus was staring at her with a concerned look on his face. She glanced around, and realized that the service had ended, and the rest of the family had already Apparated to the cemetery.

"Something wrong, Lil?" She pulled her mind out of the clouds to smile at Albus. Now wasn't the time to make her brothers worry about her…any more than usual, anyways.

"No…well, Mum. But there's not much I can do about that, is there? I was just thinking."

"No, really? I never would have guessed." Albus shook his head. "C'mon. They'll be wondering what happened to us if we don't get going."

Lily drew her wand, and the two Apparated to the cemetery where their mother was being put to rest. They appeared at one end of a row of headstones, and passed a series of familiar names as they headed towards the cluster of people at the far end.

Mad-Eye Moody. Severus Snape. Fred Weasley. Nymphadora Tonks. Remus Lupin. All of the war heroes who hadn't survived to pass their stories on to Lily and her brothers and cousins. Lily felt like she knew them anyways, since every bedtime story her father had ever told had been about them. She said a silent 'hello' to all of them as they passed, brushing her fingers over the tops of their tombstones.

Lily had to blink back tears as a sudden thought came to her: _It shouldn't have turned out like this. It's not fair! Our family had to live through so much during the war…so much loss. They shouldn't have had to lose Mum too. They deserved better. Especially Dad._ She came to a sudden halt, and Albus turned back to look at her questioningly. "You go ahead," she mumbled, her voice full of barely-suppressed emotion. "I…need a minute."

Albus nodded. "I'll come get you when it's over," he said, before going on to join the rest of the family. Lily sat down, leaning against one of the tombstones, and was startled when hands reached around it to pull her into a tight hug. She squirmed around, wand half-drawn before she realized it was her Uncle George.

"Hey there, flower," he murmured gently. "Couldn't face the crowd either?" Lily nodded wordlessly. "Well, happens I might just have something to take your mind off it. Your mum asked me to give you this." He reached over the headstone to drop a thin notebook with a cover of burgundy leather into Lily's lap. "Now, don't thank me, I don't know what's in it. But I'd better get going, before your grandmum decides I've scarpered. I'll leave you to keep your uncle company, shall I?" Without waiting for a response, he got up and went to join the rest of the family in saying their farewells to Ginny.

Slightly puzzled, Lily glanced down at the stone she had leaned against, and a sad smile formed on her lips.

_Fred Weasley_

_Beloved Brother, Son, and Friend_

_You took a part of us with you when you left._

"Hey, Uncle Fred," she said softly. "Fancy meeting you here." From what she had heard of her uncles, she was sure he wouldn't have minded her joking if he had been there to listen. She gave the headstone a familiar pat before turning her attention to the notebook in her lap. It was tied shut with two thin lengths of black ribbon. Pulling them apart, she flipped the book open and immediately recognized her mother's flowing script. Biting her lip to hold back tears, she started to read. There were only a few pages inside the leather volume.

"_My darling Lily,"_ the letter—for that was what it was—began.

"_I know I don't have much time left to live, and there are so many things I won't have a chance to tell you. Things you need to know. I trust you to keep this to yourself, until the rest of the family needs to know. I'm sure your Uncle George will read this, no matter what he tells you, but I trust him to keep it a secret as well._

"_First and foremost, you must understand that I loved you and your brothers very much, and if it were my choice I wouldn't be leaving you. But that is out of my hands now, and as hard as it is to accept it, it will probably be for the best._

"_I'm sure your father is taking this badly. I had very good reasons for waiting as long as I did to tell him I was dying. I'm sure you've noticed how he always puts the well-being of others before his own. It's one of the things that makes him such a good Auror, but I know he hasn't been happy with me. I was always more like his little sister than his wife, and I realize now that everything I wanted for him was wrong. Now, I don't have time to make it right again. But I hope you can._

"_If your father has not done it for himself, I ask you to send an owl to Draco Malfoy. Yes, I know. Weasleys and Malfoys hate each other. I've taught you that since you were little. But right now, your father needs Draco, more than you or he know. I promise you, it will work out for the best if you do this for me._

"_Tell him that I'm gone, and that I leave Harry in his care, if he'll still have him after all these years. And…tell him that he was right after all. He'll understand._

"_It will be harder for your brothers than it will for you. I expect you to keep them in line, as always. You were always better at that than I was._

"_Here's a hug and a kiss from me. Love, Mum."_

Lily closed the book with shaking hands. "Send an owl to Draco Malfoy? _The_ Draco Malfoy? I don't get it, Mum," she muttered to herself, keeping her voice low. "But…if you say so."


	4. This Isn't Happening

This Isn't Happening

This Isn't Happening.

Draco Malfoy was not annoyed. He was not irritated. He was, however, bloody _furious_. And, as usual, it was the fault of a Potter. Bad enough that Harry fucking Potter had to be the bloody Savior of the wizarding world, then go and do what everyone expected and marry the Weaselette. But it was just adding insult to injury that his fucking _daughter_ should send him—Draco Malfoy, their bloody _enemy_, for crying out loud!—an owl, asking for his help! He unfolded the piece of parchment he had crushed in his hand, and read it once more, but the words hadn't changed.

"_Dear Mr. Malfoy,"_ the letter read.

(_Mister_ Malfoy! Not even Lord Malfoy, but _Mister!_ Oh, the insult.)

"_As you may know, my mother, Ginevra Weasley, recently passed away. Since that time, my father, Harry Potter, has been missing, despite constant searching by his fellow Aurors. My mother left a letter for me indicating that there might be some sort of relationship between you and my father. She asked me to tell you that she's leaving Father to you, if you'll still have him, and that you were right all along. I hope you understand what this means, as I haven't the foggiest idea._

"_At any rate, I sincerely hope you can help us. All attempts to find my father have failed, making you my last hope. Please don't let us down. I think Father might need you. I think, in fact, we all need your help if we're ever going to find him._

"_Sincerely yours, Lily Luna Potter."_

It was absolutely absurd! Him, a Malfoy, agree to help a Weasel who was a Potter to boot? Unheard of. Not after what Potter and the Weaselette had done to him after the war.

* * *

(Flashback to May 2, 1999)

"_Potter! Wait up half a second!" The lanky, dark haired youth turned to see who was calling him, his eyes narrowed. He recognized that voice, and soon caught sight of the face that went with it, weaving through a crowded Great Hall. A special dinner had been held that night at Hogwarts for all of their class to celebrate the anniversary of Voldemort's death, and of course the one person he least wanted to see had the gall to show up._

"_Malfoy. What do you want?" Oh, sure, Malfoy was supposedly on the side of Light now. At least, he hadn't been thrown into Azkaban with the Death Eaters who'd managed to survive the final battle. But that didn't mean Harry was going to be friends with him. No matter how gorgeous he looked… No! Bad brain. Those weren't things he needed to be thinking about his arch-rival of six years._

_By that time, Malfoy had caught up with him, and, grabbing Harry's arm, was dragging him towards the doors of the hall. "Malfoy, what the bloody hell do you think you're doing? Let go of me!"_

"_Sorry," Malfoy muttered. It came as a shock to Harry that the boy was actually apologizing to him, but he didn't have much time to reflect on it, as the Slytherin had continued speaking. "I just…need to talk to you about something. And I can't do it in front of all these people." He dragged Harry out into the entrance hall, and dropped to sit on the floor in front of the hourglasses that kept track of each house's points. Harry leaned against the closest wall, and stared at the Malfoy, waiting for him to explain. When Malfoy finally spoke, it was in a quiet voice, so different from his usual snobbish tone._

"_I…wanted to apologize. I've been a right git for…well, since I met you. Damn if it was what I wanted, but you were the Boy who Lived, and my dad was Voldy's right hand man. If I had had my way, things would have been different. I just thought you might want to know that."_

_Harry stared at Draco for a long moment. Finally, he couldn't help but ask. "Just…how different are we talking, here? Like, not mortal enemies?"_

_Draco laughed bitterly. "As long as I'm being honest…like, lovers. If I'd had my way." For a moment, he could see a flash of undisguised longing in the Gryffindor's face, but then Harry shook his head._

"_I almost wish. But there's no way that can happen now. I have Ginny to worry about."_

_Draco could feel his accustomed cruel sneer coming back over his face, to hide the hurt he felt. "Of course you would choose the Weaselette over me. Forget I ever said anything, Potter. You won't have to look at me again." He turned and stalked off, turning a deaf ear to the other boy's protestations. It served him right for opening up to someone._

* * *

Draco shook his head to clear out the unwanted memories, but it was too late. The next scene was already beginning to play in his mind.

* * *

(Early July, 2005)

_The very last person Draco had expected to run into in Diagon Alley was a very pregnant Ginny Weasley. And he __certainly__ hadn't expected her to sit down at his table at the small café he frequented there and strike up a conversation as though they were the best of friends, rather than almost complete strangers. But he wasn't at all surprised when she steered the subject of the conversation to the very last person he wanted to talk about: Harry Potter._

"_He talks about you sometimes, you know. To Teddy—he's Harry's godson, but of course you knew that already. Remus and Tonks' son. You remember. Well, anyways, he's always saying how you can't judge a book by its pictures, or some silly Muggle saying like that." She laughed, as though she had just made the wittiest joke in the world, and Draco suppressed a groan. He would __not__ let the infernal woman see how much she was trying his patience._

_Suddenly, Ginny's face turned serious. "Some days, I wonder if it's you he loved, and not me at all. The look on his face when he talks about you…" She trailed off, and it was a good thing she seemed distracted by her thoughts, because the fabled Malfoy composure cracked a little at her words. He had no trouble pulling his customary sneer back onto his face at her next words, however._

"_Ah, well. He still chose me in the end, so I suppose it doesn't matter, does it?"_

_Draco stood, his contempt clear on his face. "Just because Potter wanted to do what was best for everyone else, it doesn't follow that it was best for him. He would have chosen me, if you hadn't taken a tumble in the hay and gotten yourself knocked up like the tart you are. And we both know it." He stalked off, resolving to find a new café to frequent._

* * *

Draco smirked slightly. At least the Weaselette had finally admitted that he had been right about her erstwhile husband, even if she hadn't had the guts to admit it to him face-to-face. Then too, it was nice for people to recognize that he alone was suited to certain tasks, even if those tasks happened to be finding run-away wizards. And the girl had said that he was their last hope. He scowled across the room, as though the bookshelves lining the far wall had offended him somehow, and collapsed into the overstuffed armchair that he reserved for his heaviest thinking. Was he actually considering helping the Weasels? After everything they'd done to him? And Potter, too. Potter certainly didn't deserve his help. In fact, he deserved to be condemned to the deepest depths of Hell.

He sighed softly. He was going to end up doing it anyways. Damned if he was going to enjoy it, but he would end up doing it. Even after the rejection, and all the intervening years, he still had a soft spot for Potter. And besides, it just might be worth it to see the look on the faces of the Weasel clan when they saw who the youngest had brought in to find their precious Harry.

Before he could change his mind, he summoned parchment, ink, and quill to himself, and scrawled out a brief message.

"_Miss Potter:_

"_Loathe as I am to associate myself with your family, I owe your father a debt for freeing myself, and the rest of the Wizarding world, from the Dark Lord. Thus, I will reluctantly agree to aid you in your search. Please call on me at Malfoy Manor at your earliest convenience, and be prepared to supply such details of your father's disappearance and the search so far as you are able to obtain._

"_-Draco, Lord Malfoy."_

Rolling up the parchment, he stalked out of his office and up a flight of stairs to the Manor's owlery. Selecting a regal-looking eagle owl that usually carried his business correspondence, he fixed the letter to the bird's leg, and instructed it to deliver it to Lily Potter. The owl gave a soft hoot that sounded to Draco like an agreement, and took off.

_I just hope I know what the bloody hell I'm getting myself into. Associating with Potters and Weasels. I must be mad._

* * *

**A/N: Dates are estimated based on timelines and other information from the Harry Potter Lexicon. If I made any mistakes calculating, please feel free to correct my math.**

**Animegurl008 : Thank you so much for being my first review! I hope you continue to enjoy the story.**


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